The Baker Street Ideas
by KitCatty
Summary: All the little story fragments that haven't made full stories. Some Gen, some Sherlock/John. Rating may go up
1. One more touch

One touch.

Just one touch and he'd be fine again.

His phone trilled again, new message.

He used the opportunity.

"Pass me my phone."

"Where is it?"

"Jacket."

He ignored John's incredulous look and pretended to concentrate on his microscope as John dug around in his jacket.

He drew away too soon.

One touch.

One more touch and he'd be fine again.


	2. Blackmail

"I'm working, John! I have told you over and over again. I. Do. Not. Eat. When. Working!"

John's sly grin didn't move from his face, he lifted a blank DVD case.

"Oh really, I guess I'll just drop this off to Lestrade…"

Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"You wouldn't"

"I invaded Afghanistan, of course I would."

Sherlock picked up a corn and put it slowly in his mouth.

"I will get it back."

"And deprive the world of a 6-year-old Sherlock singing 'Away in a Manger? Never."


	3. Piggyback

"I refuse to walk any farther, you have gotten us lost."

Mycroft sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands

"We are not lost; we travelled East away from the house so logic dictates if we travel West we will run into the house or the road leading up to it at least."

Sherlock sat down in the dirt obviously not taking Mycroft at his word.

"My feet hurt," he whined, "and we're lost."

"We're not lost, we just walked further than I thought we did."

Sherlock didn't look like he was budging any time soon. Mycroft resorted to desperate tactics.

"I'll give you a piggyback the rest of the way."

Sherlock was off the ground in a flash and leaped on Mycroft, nearly knocking him off his feet.


	4. The Incident

**A/N: I wrote this before we knew the conclusion to the pool scene so it still follows the idea there was some kind of explosion. **

He always seemed more fragile these days, since the _incident_.

They hadn't talked about it, both hiding under the guise that there was nothing to say, that it had been like any other case, that they both hadn't almost died.

John shook it off, endeavouring to focus on the present as Sherlock glided around the crime scene, more stiffly than he had in the past but he was still healing and that was to be expected. Sherlock had been sleeping even less than before. He used to catch Sherlock sleeping, splayed out on the couch, once a week at least and often after the conclusion of a large case. Now day he seemed to be surviving on micro naps, something John knew wasn't good for him. He'd begun to be snippy, picking more arguments with John; little things that normally didn't matter to a 'superior mind' like his were suddenly creating World War 3 in their flat.

Not that he could really tell him off for it, he knew how it had affected both of them; John was also sleeping and eating less. He couldn't seem to muster up the enthusiasm for much more than a cup of tea at the best of times and he'd started with a healthy appetite.

He caught Lestrade's eyes, he was trying to stare holes in him for some reason. He glanced back over at Sherlock who was reaching up to run his finger over the top of a bookcase and had to stare at him for a moment before he realised what was wrong.

Sherlock was wearing his jacket inside out.

He groaned inwardly, already feeling sorry for his friend. Anyone else and it would be viewed as a normal, everyday mistake. Sherlock would take it as a sign of weakness and go on the attack if he saw anyone notice.

He quickly scanned the room, making note of the people who had seemed to have noticed and keeping an eye on them in case he needed to do any emergency death staring to shut them up.

Sherlock made a little impatient gesture with hand, indicating he wanted John to come over to him, to fulfil his job as a sounding board.

He picked his way carefully across the room, the room was littered with evidence, only to have Sherlock grab him by the forearm and drag him to the body as soon as he was within grabbing distance. Sherlock pulled him so that they were both crouching over the body.

"What is everyone staring at?" he hissed at John as he moved his gloved hands over the body, checking for things that only he could see.

"I don't…"

Sherlock flicked a sharp look at him causing John to sigh in resignation and catch one of his inside out jacket sleeves.

Sherlock stared at it for a moment before smirking at John.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to see it, it only took," he checked his phone, "37 minutes and that was with Lestrade's help. Tsk tsk, you need to wake up John. How can I expect you to be useful on cases if you can't even notice the obvious?"

John couldn't help it, he started giggling and before he knew it Sherlock had joined him. He was aware of Lestrade look of equal parts confusion and disapproval but he couldn't stop.

_Things might be ok after all_, John thought to himself as he met Sherlock's eyes again and a fresh wave of giggling started.

Lestrade just shook his head and left them to it.


End file.
